Them
by Alabaster Bootykins
Summary: Harry goes on a dark path into a world he's never known: the world of vampires. Dumbledore will have to kill him if he finds him, or will he? Is this truly another part of the prophecy?
1. The Dreams

Author's notes: This story is based on the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling, and I don't own any of the characters or the implied plot lines. I am just a fan! Yay! Hm... Well, this is the first fanfic I've written by myself... My writing partner, Tiger, isn't presently writing this with me... so... Yes. Please review... It would make me freakishly happy. Have fun?!

Love, Barbie a.k.a Alabaster Bootykins

Darkness was closing in around Harry Potter, choking him, tearing at his chest and throat with long, razor-sharp claws. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. Pain tore through him, and he screamed, wishing it would stop, wishing it would go away. But the darkness, whatever it was, had no mercy for the young wizard. It continued to drag him along, without letting up even a little bit. His soul... His soul felt like it was leaving his body. Was this what death felt like? Was this darkness truly Death after all? No. Another gash erupted from his leg, seeming to come from inside him, and as the pain hit him, he knew he was still alive, just barely. Did he want to be any more? This world had forsaken him. It had no compassion left for the boy that had survived Voldemort's fatal curse. Now he was left alone with the darkness.

His eyes rolled back in his head. He couldn't see it happen, but he could feel it. The darkness' teeth (how could darkness have teeth? Harry wondered for a moment) sank into his neck, and technicolor flecks danced before his eyes. He'd seen a color now... Maybe for the last time...

"Harry? Harry!" a voice called to him.

The darkness pulled away from his neck as if alarmed. Harry just wished it would finish the job and get it over with. But no... It was backing away, retreating. It had been caught in the act. For some reason, Harry felt that he didn't want it to leave him, as if it were some part of him that he'd always denied that suddenly he'd reconnected with. Just... Now he didn't feel any pain. It had been a sweet pain, and he found himself aching for it again.

"Come back," he coughed, choking on the bitter taste of his own blood.

"Harry? Please?"

All of a sudden, pinpricks assaulted his face, like he'd been slapped. As the darkness faded into nothingness, Harry eyes shot open once again.

Only this time he saw colors. Ron's bright red locks over his pale pink face, hovering above him. Dean, Seamus, and Neville, gathered around close behind, their clothing a chorus of golds and purples and blacks. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and yet... It was garish and overbearing. He squinted his eyes at them fearfully.

"Harry?" Ron's loud, tenor voice asked near his face. "Are you okay? You were screaming..."

Harry tried to respond but found that his throat was so scratchy that he burst into a fit of coughs, once again unable to catch his breath. His mouth tasted tinny. His voice was still with the darkness, far away from Hogwarts or even the wizarding world. He wasn't even sure the darkness belonged on Earth. Only in his mind, at the perfect moment...

He cleared his throat hastily. "Yeah, I just... I had... It was a..." He shook his head weakly. "It was just a nightmare."

"Bloody hell," his best friend breathed, sitting down beside him. "I thought for sure you were seeing something. Something... you know... that You-Know-Who was seeing or doing..." He tensed again, seeming to realize they weren't totally out of the clear yet. "You didn't see anything, did you?"

"Nothing to do with Voldemort," Harry rasped. _I think, _he added silently.

The rest of the boys, aside from the slight looks of fear that crossed their faces at the name Voldemort, began to relax as well. Neville and Dean slumped into their respective beds, each immensely relieved. Seamus, however, leaned against his bedpost as he watched Harry critically. "What was it Harry?" he asked. "The thing in your dream? You seemed pretty scared about it..."

For some reason, panic seized Harry at the thought of sharing his dream with the others. If they knew... They would make something bigger out of it than what it was. If they heard about some strange, shapeless force that bit into him in his dreams, they would probably tell Dumbledore about it. And besides... There was something personal about the dream. He sensed it was only meant for him to know, and no one else. He didn't want to share what he had discovered, the bittersweet pain... the sense of completion he'd felt for the first time...

"Er... I dreamed Snape was chasing me through the Potions dungeon with a sledgehammer. Then he... uh... flew off on my broom. It was terrible," he lied shakily.

Seamus shrugged and began to tug off his shirt, preparing for bed. His back turned to Harry. "That sounds pretty scary," he mumbled, sarcasm biting in his voice.

Harry's face flushed. He hated lying, and he wasn't especially good at it. "I guess you had to be there."

"I guess so," Ron jumped in. "But you know, Snape _is _pretty scary. I've had plenty of dreams where he was chasing me down the hallways... 'I vant to suck your blood! _I vant to suck your blooood!'_ It just wigs you out, you know?" he continued, seeming to try to cover up Harry's embarrassment. "Although I don't usually _scream _about it..."

"Yeah, well, I'm just... a bit stressed still from that whole summer trip with my aunt and uncle," Harry explained quickly. It was actually true. For the first time in his life, Aunt Petunia had insisted that they go on a driving trip over the summer break, and Uncle Vernon had actually agreed to let Harry come along. It was too bad they hadn't planned on owls bombarding them with letters wherever they went. To say the least, it had worsened their already hateful interractions with their nephew. "It still bothers me, I guess."

"'Know whatcha mean," Neville piped up. "Gran took me on a trip one summer... I still have nightmares..."

Dean laughed. "And this one time last summer..."

But Harry was already zoning them out. He felt the place on his neck where he had been bitten tentatively, checking to see if it really had all been in his mind. The skin there was warm and unaltered, just as it had been before his dream. Still... It did feel a bit tender... But it was probably all his mind. There was no way that a strange dream could just come true like that. Even if Voldemort was a part of his life... Something told Harry that it wasn't Voldemort who was behind this. It was something different, something less obvious...

"G'night Harry," Ron said quietly from beside him.

Harry glanced over at him and forced a smile. "G'night."

() () () () ()

"Please take one examination and pass the rest to the person seated behind you," Professor McGonagall instructed calmly from her perch in front of the class. Yellowed rolls of parchment had magically appeared in front of every student in the front row, and they followed her instructions reluctantly.

"I can't believe she's giving us a test the first week of school," Ron complained quietly. "We've only just arrived."

McGonagall's sharp, bespectacled eyes met his quickly. "I heard that, Weasley. And this isn't a _test. _It is an assessment of your skill retainment from last year. It is crucial for sixth years to pick up as much as they can from the years before in order to prepare for their future careers in the wizarding world," she snapped.

His eyes immediately glued themselves to the table space in front of him. "Oh," he muttered, this time below her hearing level. "Still sounds like a test to me."

Harry smiled at his friend. Ron could always be trusted to come up with some funny comment that served to lighten Harry's mood and take his mind away from... certain other things. Like the dream. And how he longed to have it again, despite himself... Part of him was fighting the strange ties that bonded him to the creature of darkness, but another part of him was completely embracing it. It was on his mind at every moment; every slightest suggestion made him think back to it....

A piece of parchment landed in front of him, and, being the last person in his row, he immediately turned his attention to the test. His eyes briefly scanned the paper and he got out a pen to write down answers with.

1. The three Unforgivable Curses are:

a. the Cruciatus curse, the Imperius curse, and Avada Kedavra

b. the Imperius curse, the Remedial curse, and the Winding curse

c. Avada Kedavra, the Tyranus curse, and the Remedial curse

d. the Tyranus curse, the Winding curse, and the Cruciatus curse

Harry almost laughed out loud. After all his experience with these curses, how could he possibly get this question wrong? This was ridiculous and somewhat insulting. Any person who went to Hogwarts during fourth year would be more than well acquainted with all three. He marked letter a quickly and moved on. But as soon as he read it his breath caught in his throat. Not only was this question not as easy... It also seemed horribly familiar.

2. Nightmares with sinking fangs are most likely associated with the following creature:

a. snake

b. werewolf

c. vampire

d. a backstabbing friend

"Oh God," he whispered to himself. Suddenly a lesson from last year came to his memory. It had been in Flitwick's class... He'd said, _"I once knew a student in my Hogwarts days who was afflicted by a vampire. He would wake up constantly in the night, screaming. But he would wake and nothing would be wrong with him. Until one day, when the vampire in his dream came to him not only in his dream, but in his waking conscious as well, and if Dumbledore hadn't been there to save him, he certainly would have been bitten in life."_

Could this be the answer to the big mystery? A vampire had come to him in his dream? If so, maybe his problems were solved. He could find a solution or remedy... At least now he knew was it was that was attacking him. But... He wasn't altogether sure he wanted it to leave him for good. He wanted it back almost more than he wanted to continue living...

No. Tomorrow he would talk to Dumbledore and straighten this whole thing out. That was the end of the issue.

() () () () ()

But the next day passed, and then the next, and Harry still hadn't talked to Dumbledore about his troubled sleep. The vampire hadn't come into his dreams again since that first night. He felt it was safe to stop worrying about it at this point. He just went on with life as he always had, taking his classes and sleeping whenever he could manage to squeeze a few hours in.

Then one night everything changed for the worst.

He had finally managed to drift into an uneasy sleep after many minutes of tossing and turning. The moment his eyelids closed, he found himself once again in the grips of the dark creature, the vampire. Its claws ripped into his skin, and its teeth immediately sank into his neck, and Harry felt that tug, that link to the creature that pulled him away from his real life and closer to this fantasy, this one perfectly bittersweet fantasy. He was drifting away... Its fangs only sank further into his neck, and Harry welcomed the pain, not resisting any longer.

The pain enveloped him, becoming his whole world. The blood was leaving his body... He could feel it in his head, and he began to feel dizzy. Wait... This pain was different, piercing... Suddenly Harry didn't want to leave his world anymore. He couldn't endure any more of this pain, he just couldn't. He screamed and tried to push the creature off him, but it wouldn't budge. It was much larger and stronger than him. Pressing down on him somberly, the creature dug deeper, fighting Harry's resistance with a claw that forced down his shoulder and sliced through his skin. Harry shrieked again. He was dying... How could he keep from leaving his world? He dug his fingernails into the creature, hoping to pain it and force it to let up, but still it refused to budge. As a last desperate attempt, he sunk his teeth into the arm of the vampire.

It let out a shrill shriek and recoiled. Harry bit a little harder before allowing it to get away. But the creature's blood was on his teeth, and as he ran his tongue over them curiously, he found he rather enjoyed the metallic taste it left in his mouth. But no. What was he saying? Did he actually like the taste of blood?

Slowly Harry came back to his conscious, mortal world. What a scary dream. He really needed to go talk to Dumbledore about this now. This had gone way, way, way too far for comfort. The real vampire was sure to be coming to him soon now...

It was then that he recognized the throbbing in his neck as pain. His hand tentatively came to that place that had been bitten in his dream and touched it gingerly. To his alarm, it was wet, and his fingers came back to him sticky and bright red with blood. He gasped in fear. His dreams had become reality... Had the vampire already come for him? Was it already too late?

"Harry?" Ron whispered into the night.

"Y-y-yes?" Harry stammered.

"Hmmm," he mumbled, rubbing his sleep filled eyes. "Were you having another nightmare? I'm pretty sure you were whimpering."

So he'd been talking in his sleep again. He could just lie about it right? "Uh... yeah. This time Snape was riding a dragon. Dunno what it means exactly," Harry said quickly. This whole lying habit was becoming easier all the time.

"Mmmm," Ron murmured, drifting back into sleep with a loud snore.

Harry was left again with his thoughts. There was no more doubt in his mind that he needed to talk to someone about this, someone who could help him. If this continued... who knew where he would wind up. Dead or worse... He ran his tongue over his teeth again to taste the real life taste of blood. His mouth wasn't hurt. It must have really been the vampire's blood after all. The dream must have somehow crossed over into reality...

And the bite on his neck... Something had begun, something dark and dangerous. And Harry had a sinking feeling he was becoming one of _them._


	2. Remedies

Harry's eyes fell once again onto Rebecca Yellen's face, and he blushed as she glanced back up at him. She always knew when he was watching her in a way that he couldn't describe. It was too bad she hardly acknowledged his existence at all. The gorgeous new student barely glanced at Harry before looking back down again. The other girls at least had some sort of respect for him because of all that he had been through, but Rebecca couldn't care less. And it only made him like her more.

Rebecca stared at her paper, obviously waiting for Harry to look away, but he couldn't find it in him to stop staring. She was just... so... perfect. She was so smart, gorgeous, funny... and so much better than him. At least she seemed to think so. If only she would look at him... If only she would ask him a question, tell him a joke, anything... But Harry didn't have that kind of luck, especially with too-perfect-to-be-real girls like her.

So the next step would be trying to talk to her. That was, if Harry could somehow jump his voice back into his throat and just...

"Harry?" Hermione's voice demanded. "Class just ended. You can get up now."

Blushing possibly the darkest red that he ever had in his life, Harry leapt to his feet and quickly gathered his things together. He couldn't help notice that Rebecca was staying behind, probably trying to perfect her incantation, as she was muttering under her breath with her wand outstretched.

"Sorry," Harry muttered quietly.

Hermione laughed aloud. "Harry, really, just go talk to her."

"Go... talk... to who?" he asked, feigning confusion.

"Rebecca. You're so obvious." His good friend laughed again, shaking her head. "If you don't do it now, you never will," she pointed out.

Harry sighed loudly. Hermione _did _have a point. He'd wanted to do this ever since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, and now was a wondrous opportunity, not likely to come again. He could talk to Rebecca alone in an empty classroom. Still, he was reluctant to just walk over there and embarrass himself. Thinking to himself, he searched his mind for a good opening line to start a conversation with her.

"Okay," he murmured, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Okay."

This, even compared to his planned afternoon talk with Professor Dumbledore, was dreadfully frightening. A lock of long, shiny brown hair had fallen in front of Rebecca's eyes, and she tucked it away gracefully. Okay. This was it. Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward, nearly running into the front of Rebecca's table.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey... uh... You're Rebecca, right?"

"Yes," she said slowly, not even looking up, "and you're Harry Potter, the boy who survived He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named."

_That _was a strange response. He gulped. "Yeah, well, usually people just call me Harry," he tried to joke.

"That's good to know." She mumbled the incantation once more and smiled slightly as her piece of parchment burst into flames. She had a great smile.

"Well... erm... Brilliant job on that spell."

"Thanks."

"You know, last year I started- well, no, actually it was Hermione, but I led- this DADA club, and we got busted by Umbridge at the last minute--"

Rebecca made a slight coughing noise.

Harry laughed nervously. "Erm... yeah, I'm so glad Dumbledore came back--"

"Hey Harry, is this how you usually come on to girls? Because I'm getting sick just listening to you blubber. If you're gonna talk to me, at least have something meaningful to say," she blurted out point blank.

Harry felt as though his heart had left his body. Either that or it was being ripped into shreds by a wild, rabid animal. No. Neither analogy seemed to describe the pain he felt at Rebecca's sharp words. In all of his daydreams, all of his hopes on the way this conversation would go, he'd never imagined she would say something so harsh, so... heartless. What happened to that perfect girl he'd imagined her to be?

"I'm... sorry," he muttered, blinking quickly as tears filled his eyes. "I'll just..."

Rebecca didn't even notice the closing of the door as he ran out.

() () () () ()

His heart still felt ripped to shreds, but he attempted to look calm and composed in front of his headmaster. It was a valiant attempt, but a fruitless one, as his bloodshot eyes could not be concealed. "Professor Dumbledore, I'm really scared. I think something is happening to me," Harry blurted out.

Dumbledore's serene old face creased in concern and he quickly gestured for the boy to sit down. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry slumped into the seat, trying to feign confidence but failing miserably. It had taken a lot of guts to go to Rebecca in the first place. Now to tell Dumbledore about the vampire that was afflicting him after his first confrontation had worked out so horribly... It would take even more willpower. But he was scared, and he knew that Dumbledore could be the only person able to help him. "I think... well... you see... I've been having these dreams... Well, they're nightmares really..."

The headmaster's intelligent blue eyes bored into Harry's green ones. "What kind of dreams?"

Sighing deeply, Harry took off the scarf that was hiding the two red, swollen marks on his neck. "Something... bit me. But it was a dream. How could something in a dream bite me in real life?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore gasped, staring at the marks in shock. His furrowed brows drew even nearer to one another. "A vampire?" he asked softly, as if he were afraid someone might hear their conversation.

"I-I don't know," Harry stuttered. "I think, maybe..."

"Describe the nightmare Harry," Dumbledore insisted. Seeing the boy's reluctance, he repeated, "Describe it to me."

Harry wished he were anywhere else but here at this moment. He didn't want to tell anyone about his experience... Even himself. This endless denial was all he felt that he had left. If it was true... If he really had been bitten by a vampire... He could already be becoming one of them. One of the vampires. "There was this thing, this creature... I couldn't see it in all the darkness but its claws grabbed me and pulled me to him. He...uh... it bit me. The first time I had the dream I woke up and everything was fine--"

"You had the dream more than once?"

"Yes," Harry admitted, feeling ashamed. "But the second time, a few days later, last night... Well, in the dream, it was biting me... I couldn't get it off... And I bit its arm. It let me go, but this time, when I woke up I had these marks on my neck and its blood was on my teeth." Suddenly he felt a need to cover his tracks a bit. "Well... It was probably my blood... I mean, my mouth was sore afterward, I could have bitten my tongue, right?"

"You bit your tongue," Dumbledore stated slowly, clearly in disbelief. "Harry, it still sounds to me as though a vampire has been biting you in your sleep."

The boy snorted, trying to look cool although he wasn't sure why. "It could be anything. Maybe a spider..."

"Harry."

Dumbledore's voice had gotten colder, more serious than Harry had ever heard it before. It was almost as though... he were ashamed of him. But that couldn't be right. Dumbledore had always been proud of Harry and believed in him more than anything else...

"Harry, you must face up to what has happened to you and be prepared to search for a solution. There is no clear cut remedy to a vampire bite... And if you bit back, it's even worse," the headmaster sighed.

Harry's eyes drifted up to meet the older man's. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear more bad news. "Why is it worse?"

Dumbledore's eyes glanced away from Harry's. "It is part of the process that will make you one of them," he said.

It was the worst possibility that the bespectacled boy could think of. So... he was becoming a vampire. What would happen to him now? Would he be locked up, sent away, so he didn't do anymore harm to the world? Or would they let him go free, let him destroy the lives of others just as had been done to him? There seemed to be nothing he could do. But... Harry didn't want to hurt anyone. He could fight it, couldn't he?

"What can I do?"

() () () () ()

Ripping out a piece of garlic and shoving it into his mouth, Harry grimaced as it slid down his throat. The strong, salty taste filled his mouth and stuck in the back of his throat, and he gagged for a moment. This was only one part, and the most unpleasant one, of the steps that Dumbledore had insisted he take in order to prevent him from becoming a vampire. The holy water nestled deep in the flaps of his bag was another indication of Harry's predicament. And the stake in his robe' pocket... That could be a bit hard to explain.

Not that Harry was planning to tell anyone about what was happening to him. Even Ron... If Ron knew, he would make Harry feel ten times worse about it then he already did. And Harry definitely had enough to deal with, what with the vampire and his situation with Rebecca...

Goddammit. He'd promised himself he wouldn't think about that anymore. For the last two days, their conversation had been his obsession, his only thought. That look in her eyes... How could she be so cruel? Harry insisted to himself that she was a good person, that she must have been having a bad day... But he wasn't even sure he wasn't lying to himself. After all, he didn't know her very well...

The door burst open, and Ron stepped inside, groaning loudly. "I feel sick... Oh, I had so much pumpkin pie..."

Harry quickly shoved his garlic clove under some clothes and forced a fake smile. "Ron, you're an animal. You just can't control your eating."

"I know, I know," his best friend continued, unbuttoning his pants a button. "But oh... that whipping cream was so good... I couldn't resist myself."

"Yeah." Harry couldn't think of a response at the moment. His eyes had become distant again. There was just too much for him to deal with right now. What if that thing came back for him? What if he really became something else, something horrible and evil? He tried to put it from his mind yet again, and failed.

Ron was looking concernedly at Harry's blank face. "Are you alright, mate? You're off in your own little world..."

"I'm fine," he insisted tersely. "Just... you know... beginning of the school year, you know?"

"Sure," Ron said slowly, still eyeing his best friend.

Harry tightened his Griffindor scarf around his neck. "I can't wait for the first Quiddich practice," he choked out, trying to smoothly change the subject.

"Yeah," his best friend answered. His face lit up at the subject. "Tuesday, right?"

"Right," the bespectacled boy replied with a smile. Finally this conversation had reached comfortable ground. And he wasn't even lying anymore. Harry couldn't wait to feel the rush of wind on his face, the smooth, gliding moments of the broom that he'd longed for all of last year. With the crowd cheering below him and his whole team supporting him, he supposed it couldn't feel much better than that. "I finally get to ride a broom again."

Ron grinned happily. "I finally get to prove myself, once and for all... again."

Harry laughed. "That's true enough. No Umbridge..."

"No... uh... Dobby hopefully..."

Laughing harder, Harry toppled onto his bed clumsily. "I hope so," he said cheerily. Something made a slight _plop _as it hit the floor, but he didn't think anything of it. That is, until he noticed Ron staring at the floor.

"Harry... What is that?"


	3. New Harry

"It's... uh... um..." Harry was stuttering, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for the stake that had fallen out of his robe pocket.

Ron's eyes were wide green saucers. "Is that what I think it is?"

Instinctively, Harry snatched the stake up, shoved it back in his robes, and cast what he hoped was both an apologetic and nonchalant look towards his best friend. "It's just my wand," he insisted tensely. "I got a new one just in case... you know... something--uh-- happens where I need a new one. You never know!"

"Harry, wands usually aren't pointy," said the redheaded boy, rather pointing out the obvious.

Harry laughed hoarsely, as if that were the funniest thing he'd heard in his whole life. "Yeah... uh... that's what I said when they gave it to me, but they insisted. They said it was even better than my old one."

Ron eyed his friend suspiciously. "All right. If it's really better than your old one, cast a spell with it."

"What?"

"Cast a spell with your 'new wand.'"

Oh God. How could Ron always know when Harry was lying? And why did Harry even try to cover up? Ron knew him better than he knew himself; it wasn't some big secret. Hands shaking, Harry drew the stake with one hand while his other slipped into his robes for his real wand and prayed for a miracle.

"Engorgio," he whispered. A small shimmer of magic came out and enlarged one of Ron's bedposts, making the bed creak and groan.

But his friend continued to stare at him. "That didn't come from that thing," he insisted.

"Yes, it did. Of course."

"No, it didn't," Ron repeated. "It came from your robes." His face was flushing with frustration.

Harry frowned defensively. "No, it came from my new wand."

"I wouldn't call that a wand. I'd call it a stake."

The bespectacled boy jerked from fear of being discovered, though he tried to cover it up. "Ha! Why the hell would I have a stake? Seriously Ron, you're delusional."

"Let me see it," Ron said, moving quickly toward Harry.

"No!" he shouted back.

But Ron had already reached into Harry's robes, knocking Harry's real wand to the ground. Before his best friend could successfully examine the stake that he had discovered, Harry jerked away and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him loudly. He soon heard Ron's footsteps behind him.

"Harry, whatever it is, you can tell me. You tell me everything!"

Harry quickened his pace. "It's none of your business! You have nothing to do with it!" he shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted away.

Ron slowed and watched his friend run away, catching his breath.

() () () () ()

Changes were happening to Harry. Big changes.

Everything that he had used to be seemed to fade away. His face, though normally a bit pale, had an ashen, sickly tint to it, and his lips were a deep scarlet. His eyes were bloodshot and red, and they looked empty and lifeless to anyone who knew the life that usually was present in them. He was definitely not acting like himself either. Especially after he ran away from Ron, Harry was more sullen and cold than he had ever been in his life. As well as this, he noticed girls looking at him differently. As if there was something new... intriguing... about him that he'd never had before. Whatever it was, he liked it, at least at some level.

He let a tiny, mysterious smile creep into the corners of his lips as his eyes surveyed the text in front of him. He could see Ron staring at him in concern out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't look back or even acknowledge his friend's presence. It all seemed so pointless now. Why had he ever cared so much about what Ron thought about him? Ron was just another one of the ordinary people, those with nothing extraordinary about them. Unlike Harry...

Harry stopped that line of thinking with an audible grunt. He couldn't seriously be thinking that about his best friend. Ron had stood by him through everything, even when he felt like his life was falling apart. This kind of betrayal, even in thought, was a terrible thing. He could just tell Ron... It would be okay... Still, some part of him didn't want to tell Ron no matter what the consequences were for their friendship.

The other students in Transfiguration were getting up and bustling about, heading for the Great Hall for lunch. Harry stayed behind to gather his things, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron standing up but not leaving. He seemed to be waiting for Harry, like he always had before. Harry shouldn't have been surprised at the sheep's actions.

But before Ron could say anything to his best friend, Rebecca stepped forward, nervously drumming her fingers on the paper before Harry. "Hey," she whispered, her deep blue eyes searching his with a kind of wonder.

"Hey," Harry replied bluntly. He glanced over her shoulder to see Ron walking away. Good.

She licked her lips. "I just wanted to... to apologize for what I said to you the other day. It was wrong of me." She still stared, transfixed, into his emerald eyes, as if looking for something. "I was wrong."

He couldn't help feeling his insides turn to mush, even after what she had said to him. She was still so goddamn beautiful. "Yes," he said slowly, not wanting to forgive so quickly. "You were. Is this all you came to say to me?" There. Give her a taste of her own medicine.

"N-no," Rebecca stuttered. "I also... well, I wondered... if we could maybe go to Hogsmeade together or something?"

Harry's eyes widened, but he managed to keep his cool. After all, it was this "new Harry" that she seemed to like, the cool, aloof, mysterious Harry. "What caused this sudden change of heart?" he demanded a bit bitterly.

"I dunno," she breathed with a half-laugh. "I just... I misjudged you, okay? I thought you were some goody-two-shoes suck-up or something. But now... I see that you're a lot more than that. You're... interesting. There is a lot more to you than just the boy who survived." Anxious dimples appeared at the edges of her smile.

Feeling slightly intoxicated, he nodded. "Hogsmeade would be great," he murmured, amazed at his own ability to stay calm.

Rebecca sighed with relief. Harry had never seen her so flustered. "Great," she said.

"See you... whenever," Harry mumbled carelessly, at the same time, thinking, _Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me._ He turned his back to her and had only taken a few steps away when her hands were on his shoulders and, almost as if obeying his command, her lips were pressed against his passionately. Her arms tightened around his neck, deepening the kiss, and he felt himself returning it, finally able to kiss girl he'd dreamt about since school began.

But the moment passed and he quickly pulled away from her. He couldn't let her have everything she wanted or she'd never come back to him in the night... Harry smiled secretively and walked away, leaving Rebecca to wonder about what had just happened and whether it had been fantasy or reality.

() () () () ()

Dumbledore was approaching him. He would probably want to know how the remedies were working, but Harry just didn't want to share that with... anyone. Especially when he wasn't sure himself. He was changing, he knew that for sure, but whether or not he was becoming a vampire was a mystery... No, that was a lie. The remedies weren't working. He could feel the urge growing deep inside for blood, anyone's blood. Rebecca's blood.

That wasn't exactly something he could tell his headmaster. He doubted he could even tell him about the creature that still lingered in his dreams, the one that no longer bit him but now sat and studied him, as if waiting for a change to happen inside of him...

"Harry," Dumbledore called, taking long strides toward the bespectacled boy.

Harry forced a smile for a greeting. "Hey, Professor," he murmured.

"You look sick," the headmaster proclaimed. "Shall I escort you to the nurse's office? Are you feeling... afflicted in any way?" The double meaning of his words was apparent.

"I'm fine," the boy insisted quickly. "I'm just kind of disoriented. All that garlic, you know?"

Dumbledore smiled smoothly, but it didn't seem to fit the worry on the rest of his face. "Of course. Garlic can do that. But Harry... If anything _is _going on, you will tell me?"

"Yes, I promise," Harry lied. He felt a surprising lack of guilt at all of his lying.

"Well, there are other students in this school I must attend to. Just... Be careful now." The headmaster headed off towards his office, though glancing once more at his pupil in concern.

Harry shook his head quickly and began to walk towards his room. If ever there was a time when he needed his holy water and garlic, now was it. But he had barely taken a few steps when Hermione stepped in front of him, halting his path down the hall.

"Harry, what's with the sullen expression?" she demanded, though she seemed weaker than usual.

He shrugged. "Today's just not my day, I guess."

"Has anything... you know... happened?"

"Nothing of note."

Hermione continued examining his face, her eyes resting on his bloodred lips in a curious fascination. "Are you... Are you sure about that?" she asked quietly.

"Totally sure. Actually, I was just going to do my homework. You're always bugging me to do it anyway."

"What about Quiddich?"

That was right. Today was Tuesday. The first day of Quiddich practice. He pressed his palms into his eyes in frustration; he couldn't believe he didn't remember that he had practice today. It had been all that he could think about before the dreams. Now other thoughts were battling for his time.

"I totally forgot," he murmured frustratedly. "I should just go then..."

"And you're completely fine?"

"Completely," Harry mumbled as he rushed out to the Quiddich field.

() () () () ()

The wind in his hair was enough to take his mind off of these issues, if only for a minute. Harry let himself relax as he flew, the crisp air snapping at his face and making him feel the most alive he ever felt as of late. He watched the tiny figures below him. They all seemed so small, so inconsequential from up here. And so did all of his problems. He began to wonder why he had been so stressed about those dreams and Rebecca and everything. Just days later, everything seemed to be working out for the better.

He thought he spotted the practice snitch just feet away, and he raced after it with his arm outstretched. The wind whipped at his hands, but he managed to get close to it. He was just feet away now... All he had to do was reach out his fingers and...

Suddenly something clouded his vision. The corners of his peripheral vision turned completely black. He couldn't focus on the snitch anymore... His mind was somewhere else, like it had felt at the beginning. Something was calling to him; it wanted him to come to it so badly, he wasn't sure what it would do. It would... kill... for Harry. But it hadn't reached that point yet. The thing... It was waiting for him, had been waiting for sixteen years, ever since he'd been born...

Before he realized what was happening to him, he was falling through the air, the ground rapidly rushing to meet him. He landed with a loud thump and his vision went completely black.

() () () () ()

The vampire was back.

Harry was walking through the halls of Hogwarts as he did every day. Rebecca stood in one corner, waiting for him to walk her to class. Ron and Hermione stood in another. Expressions of disbelief and disgust were painted on their faces. They were disappointed with him. Rebecca seemed happy, smug. She was glad that he was changing. Whatever that change meant.

The vampire stood at the end of the hall. Now it wasn't just darkness; it was a shape. A tall, black robed body stared down at Harry with red, misshapen eyes. Still, through its ugliness, it was strangely beautiful and haunting. And it wanted him to near it now more than ever. And Harry listened to its call without resistance. He'd gone too far to turn back now. Just a few more steps forward and he would be what he was always intended to be... A new being, a new creature... Something that lived forever and depended on nothing but itself... Harry wanted it more than anything.

While his friends watched, he took the final step, bringing him within inches of the vampire. Its dark head leaned towards him slowly, almost tentatively, and sank its fangs into his neck with a huge hunger and greed. Immediately, the pain struck Harry, but it felt wonderful to him. He found himself wanting to speed up the process. His hand assisted the vampire, pressing its head harder against his neck. He shivered in happy anticipation.

Life slowly seeped away from him... Red flecks danced across his eyes. It was a beautiful moment, the most beautiful moment of his life... His head swam with dizziness. He was dying... He welcomed death. Just when Harry felt as though he could lose no more blood, the vampire stopped. Harry breathed deeply. He knew what he was supposed to do now; he just found himself more scared than he thought he would be. The final step... The exchange of blood... Although the vampire had not said so to him, Harry knew it was his turn to take blood back.

His mouth slowly cupped over the vampire's wrist, and he bit in hungrily, immediately tasting the metallic taste of its blood. He drank in deeply and felt life returning to his aching body. But there was also something else. _He _was now something else. More powerful. More alive. More... everything.

He pulled away from it now, smiling. It was done. He was one of them now. Two other vampires appeared behind the first, and they bowed their heads in recognition. They were different from the original... They looked rather normal, just pale and ashen-faced like Harry. Somehow that was comforting to him. Backing away, he turned his grin to Rebecca, who smiled fiercely back at him in approval. But the further he backed away, the further away they all got... Suddenly they were blurs of color... Suddenly they were far, far away...

"I think he's waking up."

Harry opened his eyes painfully. Ron, Hermione, Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore were all staring at him expectantly, although of course they looked relieved. Concerned creases decorated each of their faces, all in their own particular ways. It all seemed so pathetic to Harry. He was perfectly all right. Better than ever, in fact.

"Hello," Harry rasped.

Hermione breathed a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness you're all right!" she smiled. "We thought... well... we weren't really sure..."

"Yeah, what happened on the Quiddich field? You just passed out. None of us knew what had happened," Ron said quickly.

Harry sat up slowly, ignoring the shooting pains that zigzagged through every muscle group he had. He sucked on his teeth apprehensively, hoping to wipe off any remaining traces of blood. The last thing he would want would be for everyone to know the truth... "Honestly, I'm not sure what happened. I just got dizzy all of a sudden. And I couldn't balance right. I think it was because I skipped lunch," he lied smoothly. "I feel fine now. Just a bit sore."

Madame Pomfrey glanced at him in disbelief. "You fell nearly thirty feet. You're lucky you're not dead."

"Seriously, I'm fine. I must've landed well."

"It's a most peculiar thing, Harry," Dumbledore explained, not meeting Harry's eyes. "When we found you, we were certain that you had a broken spine. But three hours later, you had no external injuries. Except for this." The headmaster indicated the place where the teethmarks used to be. "But now, two more hours later, its gone. Whatever happened?"

Harry eyed Ron, who was staring in shock at the scar that remained from the gashes. He wondered if Ron or Hermione already knew about Harry's... condition. If they didn't know, Harry certainly wasn't going to tell. "Er--"

"They know," Dumbledore said suspiciously. "Though I'm not sure why you would keep it from them..."

Harry feigned embarrassment and looked down at his legs. "I was ashamed."

"There is nothing to be ashamed of," Hermione said matter-of-factly, still concerned. "You couldn't help what was happening to you..."

_If only you knew, _Harry thought, but didn't say so out loud. "I guess. Well, the thing..." He winced. "The vampire... it went away. I think that is why I healed. So there's nothing to worry about... I just need a good rest..."

"I certainly hope that's only thing you need," Madame Pomfrey said curtly before impatiently walking away.

Ron continued to look at him in that hurt, disbelieving way. "I can't believe you couldn't tell me," he whispered, tears thickening his voice. "Me, of all people... What's happened to you? You've changed. You're not even the same person anymore." He swiped a tear out of his eye. "Why am I even talking to you? You're not Harry." Throwing one last hateful look behind him, he stomped away.

"Ron has a point, Harry. You should have told us," Hermione frowned at him before following Ron out.

Dumbledore smiled weakly at him and without a formal goodbye, walked out. Again Harry got the sense that he was ashamed of what he had done.

But the thing was, Harry didn't care that they thought he had changed, or that he was different. Because he was. And he was proud of that. They were just jealous, all of them. They somehow sensed that he was greater than them now, and they resented that fact. But it wasn't as if Harry needed them. He had all he needed in his new friends. His new brothers and sisters. He smiled slowly. Whoever this New Harry was, he liked him.


	4. Initiation

**Author's Note: Hey, you people out there! Yeah, you! Please review my story because it makes me very, very happy when you do! (Wow, that rhymed. What a poet I am... Or not. Well, seriously, read and review! I'll give you a biiiiig kiss??? Only if you want it... geez... I'm not a pervert or something... shifty eyes)**

Harry had lost his friends, his respect, his identity in general... And he had never felt better.

He grinned at Rebecca, who was nestled comfortably on his lap. So what if Hermione and Ron had decided they were too good for him? He didn't need them. He had the hottest girl at Hogwarts, possibly the hottest girl in the wizarding world, who was totally crazy about him. Plus... He had a whole new group of friends. And unlike his old friends, they would stick by him no matter what. They were, after all, linked by blood.

A light tingling sensation tickled Harry's ear, and he realized that Rebecca was biting it softly. His smile only grew wider. His hand crept along the small of her back, pulling her closer. She giggled quietly into his ear and began to trace kisses down his jawline and onto his neck, where she lingered for a time, clutching his chest as she kissed it time and time again. But Harry slowly pushed her away. It was his turn.

Ignoring her look of confusion, he cupped her chin with his hand and kissed her fiercely. She responded in the same way... Happily, he now went to her neck, his mouth watering at the sound of her pulse that he heard as he neared it. His lips caressed the skin at first, then pressed into it harder. His teeth came out, pearly fangs that had appeared only the night before, and finally, after what seemed hours of waiting, sank into her neck. The sound of her gasp didn't stop him or even make him falter. Her hands shoving against him only made him bite harder, enjoying the delicious flow of blood--of life--that went through him, replenishing his body in a way that only his fellow vampires could understand. Her legs flailed out and kicked him, and he fell off her, landing on the floor with a dull thud.

He stared up at her desperately. He was still so hungry... She couldn't force him to stop now. But somehow Rebecca had. She stood over him, panting, tears streaking her cheeks, and slapped a hand over her bleeding neck. Slowly she backed away.

"What was that? What were you doing?" she sobbed. She sank into a bunk, obviously weak. "Oh God, Oh God..."

Harry tried to paint an expression of confusion onto his face even as he wiped away remaining blood with the back of his hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just got carried away is all. It won't happen again," he promised, knowing already that it was a lie.

"Harry... You bit me... Drank my blood... Are you a...? What are you?" Rebecca demanded.

"You think I'm a... a..." It was then that Harry realized he had never actually stated out loud what he had been becoming all this time. How pathetic was he? "You think I'm a vampire?" he completed finally. Nervously, he looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes.

She let out another loud sob. "I... don't... know... You just bit me, and I feel so weak now and different, and--" She broke down into hysterical crying. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing. I would never do anything--"

"But you did! You bit me, Harry!" Rebecca shrieked.

It felt like a moment that should have been an epiphany for Harry. He should have heard a choir sing or a light bulb should have gone off just over his head. But her words meant next to nothing to him now. Biting her hadn't been the wrong thing to do... It had been the only right thing he'd done in a long, long time. And so he felt no guilt for covering up, hoping for another chance to finish the job. She was the one... He had to make sure that she was with him forever.

"I... I'm sorry. But I'm not a... a vampire, okay? I just... I think I love you. I've never been in love before. I don't know what to do or how to act around you," he admitted. At least it was true. It just... wasn't a completely appropriate excuse.

Rebecca got up onto her feet and wobbled over to the door. "You know what Harry? Good luck with that! Because I can't be with some blood-sucking freak, okay?" she screamed. He wished she wouldn't be so loud. Especially when he was trying to stay low profile.

"You know where to find me," Harry murmured as she slammed the door.

He wasn't concerned. Not at all. She'd be back.

* * *

Being without her was so painful. More painful than anything he'd ever felt in his life.

Even though he told himself that he didn't need Rebecca, that she would come back to him soon enough, he still hungered for her immensely. His stomach grumbled for the thousandth time in the past five minutes, but he pushed his physical needs aside. She would come back. He just needed to work a little harder at it. If she didn't want to come back on her own, he would have to seduce her back. It shouldn't be too difficult. She was hugely infatuated with him for reasons unknown even to him. All he knew was once he began the process of becoming a vampire, she became interested. He must be somehow more seductive now...

Nighttime had cast dark shadows over everything in the courtyard, andHarry glanced back at the place that he was now leaving.He hadn't actually gone to school for the past three days. The morning after his transformation he'd felt the burning of his skin that the sun's rays produced, and had realized what it meant for him. He could never go out into the sunlight again. He'd hidden under his blankets until his friends left the room, telling anyone who came to visit him that he was very contagious. When Madame Pomfrey had come in the second day, he'd just told her that he would go to class the next day, and camped out in his room for a bit longer. So far it had worked, although he was feeling rather caged. But he knew he couldn't avoid daylight any longer. He had to find a new place to hide.... Right after he found Rebecca and tried to win her back.

There was her dormitory. He knew boys weren't allowed inside, so he looked around for any girls who looked like they were going in. Luckily he spotted Hermione trotting quickly along the path, darting along the building and appearing to be slightly frazzled. He jogged up to her with an apologetic look on his face.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Hello," Hermione said cooly. Even through her coldness, she couldn't help watching his lips in fascination. "What do you want?"

Harry smiled charmingly. "I was wondering if you could get Rebecca for me."

"Rebecca? That tramp?"

Anger surged through Harry's body. "She is _not _a tramp, Hermione!" he shouted. He flinched. He had to get a grip on himself. Otherwise, how could he ever have control of Rebecca? Now calm, he added, "Please? I need to talk to her."

She looked a bit frightened. "Are you sure you're alright? You haven't been to school in ages..."

"Three days. Three days is not ages."

"Okay, fine. I was just... concerned. I'll get her, alright?" Hermione replied, gathering her things more tightly and heading for the dormitory door.

"Hey, 'Mione?"

She turned to face the boy who, until recently, had been one of her closest friends.

"Thanks," he murmured, grinning hugely. Hermione seemed transfixed on his lips once again, unable to go back into the dorm. After several long moments of standing there, she finally, reluctantly turned away and went back inside, a tender smile fixed on her face.

And Harry was once again left on his own in the night. It actually good to him, comfortable... The only thing that could really make it better would be for Rebecca to be here with him. The way she was meant to be. Just like Harry. Together... who knew what they could do? All he knew was that he needed a companion, someone to be with all these hours that he was sure to be alone now that he was unlike the rest of the students he used to know. She had it in her to be a vampire too, he just knew it.

He leaned onto a tree, trying again to quiet his rumbling stomach. It would be okay. He would have food as soon as Rebecca was with him. All he would need until then was patience. Everything would fall into place soon enough. Just a few more moments and everything would be perfect for Harry...

"She doesn't want to see you," a voice said, right in front of Harry. He looked up to see Hermione staring at him.

"What? Why?" he demanded.

"She says... you're a blood-sucking freak," Hermione whispered, seeming to be ashamed of the accusation.

Although what Rebecca said was true, he couldn't help but feel offended at her not coming back to him. He pressed his hands against his forehad in frustration, ruffling his hair at the same time. He'd thought... she still loved him, even if he'd made a mistake in biting her too soon. But now... He wasn't sure what to believe. He had to get her back. He just had to in order to survive.

Hermione appeared to misunderstand his emotions. "Harry... I don't know why she would say a thing like that. It was really terrible of her. But... even if she's being a bitch to you, don't you think it's time you went back to class? You look terrible," she told him, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks," Harry muttered sarcastically, although he didn't especially care what he looked like. "But I can't go back to class. You wouldn't understand."

"I used to understand. Because you used to tell me what was happening."

"Don't even pretend to know me now!" he hissed. He slumped down to the bottom of the tree.

Hermione's face quickly turned a bright red with anger. "How much can you change in two weeks?! I still know you, probably better than almost anyone! So _don't _tell me that I don't know you, alright? I know you, whether you like it or not, whatever what's happened since the beginning of the term!" she shouted at him.

A sharp buzzing went through Harry's ears at the sound of her shrieks, and he covered them harshly with his palms. "Can you scream a little quieter? Oh... Ah..." he moaned, rubbing his temples as something ressembling a migraine began pounding through his head.

"Sorry," she mumbled, awkwardly standing in front of him. "So do you want me to tell her something?"

He thought for a moment. "Yes. Tell her that I love her, and I miss her. But I can't see her again. Or you, for that matter." He had to get out of this place. Besides... If Rebecca knew he was gone, maybe she would see the error of her ways and go out looking for him.

"What?" Hermione asked. Tears clouded her voice and she sat down next to him, trying to make eye contact.

Harry continued to look away, and was surprised to find that he was actually sad that he would never see these people again, except for when he was hungry. Hogwarts had been his home for all these years, his only place of comfort. Suddenly everything had changed. He had to get Rebecca to come back to him, but he couldn't live here anymore.

"I'm leaving Hogwarts," he whispered.

"No!" she whispered, grabbing his shoulders so he would look at her, which he did reluctantly. "How can you...? I thought you loved it here. And I'm here, and Ron, and... well, and Rebecca..."

Harry sighed. "I have to leave, for all of your sakes. I'd only make it worse for you here."

"Harry, you can't leave. I _won't _let you leave!" Hermione cried, tears falling down her cheeks in big droplets.

"Let me go! It's better this way!" he insisted, pulling her arms off him and walking away. He hadn't expected Hermione to put up such a fight about it.

But she jogged up behind him, keeping up with his long-strided pace. "Don't leave me! Don't leave... us! Please? I... I know that it hasn't been perfect here the last couple years, but so many people will love and miss you. I'll love and miss you. Just... don't go, okay? Don't leave Hogwarts," she managed to say through her clogged throat.

Harry had a hold on her. It was just dawning on him now, after all this time. Somehow he'd made Hermione fall in love with him after his transformation. It explained all of this: how she was acting around him, how much she was battling to keep him around... Everything _was _falling into place. Just not with Rebecca. Harry turned and faced her suddenly. "You'll miss me?" he demanded. He had suddenly gotten an idea.

"Yes," she said unfalteringly.

"You'll love me?"

"Y-yes," she stuttered.

Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her slowly, and he felt her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"Harry... What're you doing?" Hermione demanded, though not moving an inch away from him.

"It's just, you seem cold. You need me to warm you up," he whispered, leaning over her ear and talking into it seductively. "Don't you?"

She was obviously confused and flustered, but she nodded. "Yes," she murmured.

Without another word, he kissed her with all the passion he could muster, and she was returning it, clinging to him tightly. He pulled away, smiling, and quickly went back in, tracing kissed along her jawline and moving in on her neck. He was just so hungry... His lips made contact with her pale, soft neck and began to massage it gently. His fangs came out. He was ready, he was--

"What are we doing?" she asked breathlessly, pulling away.

"I'm... I'm not sure..."

"Because... What about Rebecca? And... What about... I dunno... our friendship?"

"It's fine. We're making it better."

"How is _this _better?" she demanded. She was obviously fighting off a fresh batch of tears.

"It just is. Trust me. You trust me, right?" Harry asked softly.

Hermione nodded, seeming to lose all her anxiousness from the moment before as she stared into his deep green eyes. "I do."

His lips touched her throat again, softly, and he gave her one last peck on the lips before proceeding to caress the tender skin there, his body hungrily demanding its blood. But he had to move slowly... Make sure she was still in a trance state... Otherwise, it would turn out like it had with Rebecca... He ran his fingers through her messy brown hair and slowly let his fangs come out once again. He kissed her neck once more, harder, and heard her moan softly. She was ready. She wanted it. All he needed was one more moment.

"Ready?" he found himself asking, although he didn't know why.

"Yes. Yes!" she whispered back to him.

His teeth sank into her neck carefully. She gasped aloud, but didn't push him away. Her blood poured into his mouth, the rich, filling taste finally soothing his hunger. He sucked greedily, and as he did, he felt more powerful than ever. His headache went away almost immediately. His body was suddenly charged up, and he realized he'd been running on empty for so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like to be complete. Hermione was weakly moaning, but he ignored her and continued to drink. It was his turn, after all. The girl seemed to give up fighting at all, and then a moment later she helped him along, pressing him harder into her neck. He really had timed it right this time. She wanted him to do this almost as much as he wanted to. The blood flow slowed, and he worried that he had taken too much. He didn't want her to die... He had just needed food, and... She loved him, didn't she? She would become a vampire for him if he asked her to. All she needed was a little nudging.

"Hermione?" Harry asked as he pulled away.

"Uh?" Hermione mumbled, her eyes lacking focus.

"Here." He offered her his wrist. "Bite it."

She looked confused, but brought her mouth to it and bit his wrist tentatively. She looked shocked at the taste of his blood in her mouth, but at the same time... She was enjoying it. He realized that right now she was probably feeling that overwhelming sense of new power that he had felt while he was being initiated. The stinging where she was biting him meant nothing when compared to the pride he felt for making her part of such a great thing.

After long moments, Hermione pulled away. She looked excited, livid, and yet fear was portrayed on her face. Smiling nervously, she looked up at him.

"What now?"


	5. Without Rebecca

**Author's Noteses!!!!: Chapter five! Oh yeah babay. Well, this is where things start to get weird. (As if they weren't before.) If you like weird things, and even if you don't, please review. Cuz... uh... I want you to review. (:**

**Nope. Don't own Harry Potter or his weird wizarding world. (Hyuck hyuck, I used alliteration!) Sorry, I'm in a random mood. But here we go:**

"I'm hungry," Hermione hissed, her stomach grumbling loudly and echoing hollowly through the Shrieking Shack.

"I know," Harry snarled back. "You've only told me a hundred times."

Looking down, she sighed. "I'm sorry. But I can't help it. When are we going to get something to eat? I can't survive much longer like this. If we're going to leave Hogwarts grounds, why not just leave? We can get blood out in the Muggle world. They'll never know what hit them."

"Like your parents? Is that who you really want to bite?"

"I was thinking more about your aunt and uncle, actually," Hermione spat. "There are plenty of muggles who deserve it."

Harry glared back at her. If he could only make her understand that there was more at stake here than her. He needed to be with Rebecca. Since the last time he'd seen her, he'd been yearning for her, wishing that she would come back to him. But she'd ignored his silent pleading like she'd ignored the pleading he'd done to her face those days ago. Now... It seemed years since he'd seen her. All the same, he could still remember every detail of her face, every perfect expression, the perfect line of her neck... Hermione could tide him over, but he knew when he was honest with himself that Rebecca was the only one who could make him truly happy.

"We need to stay here a little longer," he said measuredly, controlling his anger. "There is just one more thing I need to take care of."

She shot a cold, jealous stare at him. "You need to take Rebecca with you, don't you?"

Harry didn't answer. Hermione already knew the answer to that. She always had, and she always would. "We just have to stay here, okay?"

"Why? Why am I not enough for you?" she asked quietly, not facing him.

"It's not something I can explain to you--"

"What do I need to do to make you happy?" Hermione shrieked. "All I want is to make you happy!"

There was a long beat of silence after her outburst as Harry tried not to look into her begging eyes. If he wanted Hermione, he could have her. He could have all of her. But he didn't want what he could have. He wanted the unattainable. He wanted Rebecca. And that was the end of the matter.

"Let's go for a hunt," he murmured.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Let's go. Hogsmeade is filled with people. No one will notice if one just disappears."

Letting out a shrill giggle, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her cares forgotten by the prospect of nourishment. "Thank you, Harry! You're so wonderful!"

He smiled coolly and picked her arms off of his shoulders. "Let's go."

* * *

The dark courtyard was silent and empty at this late hour, other than the sound of a few rats scurrying along the cold gray pavement. Harry and Hermione didn't even bother to be quiet; they walked along casually, trying to look as natural as possible, as if they always walked around Hogsmeade at night. Harry glanced around him quickly to see which shops were still open. Only three, the more hard core pubs of Hogsmeade. There was a sallow-faced girl standing outside of one, wobbling a little as she brought an enormous pipe to her lips and took a deep pull. It was perfect. No one else was outside. He doubted if the girl had enough in her to scream, even if she wanted to.

He nudged Hermione towards the girl, and she smiled at him with sly anticipation. Harry couldn't help but give a little grin as well. He would never admit this to Hermione, but he was nearly as hungry as she was. Just... He wanted Rebecca back more than any hunger could ever pain him. But that didn't mean that he didn't need something to tide him over until she finally came to her senses.

He walked towards the girl slowly. She didn't even notice his approach until he was a foot or two in front of her. Her sunken eyes narrowed and she sneered at him bitterly.

"What?" she demanded, a bit louder than he would have liked.

Harry didn't want to scare her so much that she screamed, although he would enjoy it tremendously. It was just too much of a risk. So he reached a hand towards her. "Can I have a try?" he asked, indicating her pipe.

"Whatever." Her limp hand extended the pipe, and he accepted it.

He breathed in deeply, and a strange haze filled his head. Her pulse was so much louder now. Every time she so much as breathed he could hear the thumping sound get a little louder, and the blood rushing through her veins called to him. It took huge amounts of his self-control not to just attack her right there. But he couldn't. It wasn't time. He pulled in closer to her, a bit disgusted at her oily complexion, but too hungry and ready to care. He leaned over her neck, as if smelling her hair. But all he could smell was that fascinating, tantalizing odor that was her blood. He was so hungry...

"What are you doing?" the girl asked.

"Nothing," he murmured. He could see Hermione come up behind him and stand on the other side of the girl. Her eyes burned with impatience.

The girl frowned at him, shaking her dirty brown hair, but not moving away. "I want my pipe back."

"No problem." He handed it back to her and moved in even closer, so that his lips were within an inch of her neck.

She smiled a little. "Where are you from?" she whispered, obviously trying to sound husky.

"Hell," he said. She snorted a laugh.

This was too much to take. He was so close to her; he had to just do it, to bite her... He was going crazy here, pushing the limits of his self-control. _Thump, thump, thump._ The sound echoed in his head over and over. It was the most horrible, beautiful thing he'd ever heard in his life. He breathed out slowly and counted to three. Okay, now. He moved just an inch forward, and his fangs sliced into her neck. A shocked, wimpering breath escaped the girl's throat, and he enjoyed the fear that radiated off her. Her pulse sped up, helping him to drink more and more. His hunger felt never-ending.He drank and drank,but somehow he knew that he had to pull away. If he didn't, he would have to listen to Hermione's whining for another week or so, and he didn't think he could stand any more of it. So his fangs came out of the girl's neck, and he gave Hermione a nod to show her that it was all right for her to drink now.

Hermione lunged at the girl, and the girl was too weak to resist. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Hermione bit her collarbone, greedily sucking as if she had never eaten in her life. Harry turned away, one part digusted and one part pleased with the savage attack. But he already felt so much stronger. He hadn't realized how shaky and weak he'd been until he could compare it to the power that he now had. A little buzzing sound rang in his ear, calling to him. He wanted to be somewhere, if he only knew where it was...

A thud sounded behind him. The slim shadow of a figure appeared next to him.

"All done," Hermione whispered, licking her bloodred lips with satisfaction.

"Good."

"Can I try the next one first?"

"Go for it."

Harry sighed. It all felt so empty without Rebecca. Or maybe it wasn't just Rebecca. Maybe it was the other things that had stopped communicating with him that he missed so, that he desired so... His breathren. The hunt could never be a joy for him until he found them again; something in his instincts told him. Agh. He was just so frustrated with waiting. He couldn't wait to be complete again.

Loud steps caught up with him. "I saved some for you," Hermione told him.

* * *

They had come back for Harry. They hadn't forgotten him after all.

Dark hooded creatures were all around him, forming a circle. They swayed together, their wispy-seeming bodies concealing a greater power. Red eyes glowed at him, making him feel alive with energy. That little buzzing was growing louder by the minute, becoming painful, but beautifully so, and he reveled in the feeling. They were sharing with him. That was what this was. Treating him as one of their own. Harry, who had never truly felt at home with anyone, not even at Hogwarts with his friends, was overcome with this new rush of emotional attachment. He belonged somewhere. And nothing could ever take that away from him. His body vibrated with the buzzing.

He sank to his knees before them, not from weakness but from pure exhilaration. Their circle grew tighter, coming in around him. Harry smiled. Not only was it wonderful for him to feel that he was a part of something, he also felt so... powerful. Not just powerful like he'd first felt at initiation. It was something more, something deeper than that. Complete control. Complete strength. The slight weaknesses that he'd felt, the remainders of his humanity, were fading away. Because the vampires lent their energy to him. They wanted him to achieve a higher purpose, he could feel it. But what was this higher purpose? What did he have to do? He tried to ask, but his vocal chords wouldn't make a sound.

The creatures broke out of their circle and glided to their individual corners. Harry could see now that they were further away from him that there were five of them. All perfect, all beautiful... And five. They were what he wanted to be. He hated his weakness; he hated his human form. He wanted... No, he needed more. More than this disgusting, hypocritical humanity.

A shadow fell over his shoulder, and he whirled around to see what it was behind him. His mouth opened in a gasp and he automatically hated himself for it. But it was something that he couldn't prevent. Rebecca stood there, even in the dream as beautiful and as graceful as she ever had been before. A thin cloak of black covered her trim body, and she jutted out a hip as if striking a pose. Her full lips were deep scarlet, pouting towards him. She smiled at him, and he found himself rising to his feet smoothly. His hand rested on her hip.

"I missed you," she whispered, her voice a mixture of seductiveness and desire.

He didn't speak, but pulled her close to him and kissed her passionately. His hands roamed over her body, finally resting on her cheek as he pulled away. A thin, satisfied smiled crept onto his face as well. This was the moment he'd been waiting for, this was the moment when he made her like him...

His eyes opened, and he quickly closed them again. He had been so close... But no, he reminded himself. It had only been a dream. A dream that fulfilled his fantasies, but a dream nonetheless. He sighed disappointedly. It had all felt so real to him so right... But the other dreams before had made him a vampire. Maybe somehow this one could make Rebecca one. He tried to clear his mind, to go back to the dream, but it was too late. He was back in this world now. And there was nothing he could do to make Rebecca his in this world.

He sat up, shoving the palms of his hands into his eyes. Although he had sealed out all the the light of day through nailed-up boards, he could detect a trail of light coming from the door. As if it had been opened. As if someone was in the Shack right now with him and Hermione. His disoriented green eyes glanced up and stopped in their place. Because... she was here.

Rebecca stood in front of him, her pale face looking forlorn and desperate, but still so gorgeous. She looked down at him weakly, her mouth a quivering line. "Aren't you going to say something? I said I missed you."


	6. On the Run

**Author's Notes: Hey again. I love you peeps for reading this; I just wanted to let you know that. I don't tell you sometimes when I should. I love to write, and so reading what you have to say about it makes me really happy. Even knowing that someone could be reading is an awesome feeling.**

**So... Sorry about that cornfest. I don't own the Harry Potter series or related plot lines or whatever... I own just this story. Hope you like!**

Harry slowly gathered his sheets up on his lap and stared at Rebecca in surprise. Not that he should be surprised. He'd known she'd be back all along. Still... Something about her pale face, the taut, beautiful line of her neck, looked so different than he'd remembered it. More perfect than even in his dream. And she'd come back to find him.

"How'd you find me?" he asked smoothly and unnaccusingly.

She shrugged. "I dunno... I just knew..."

Rebecca looked so fragile and breakable. It was pathetic, really. Harry didn't want this for her. He wanted her to be strong. "Come here," he murmured, and she walked to him submissively. "I missed you too." His light breath fluttered the loose strands of chestnut hair that hung beside him.

"I'm sorry about what I said about you. I know you're not--"

"I know."

"It was just a mistake. A harmless mistake. It will never happen again."

"Exactly."

"And... Harry, I feel so terrible..."

"Why?"

"I--I told someone about what happened."

He recoiled from her angrily. "What? Who?"

"Dumbledore."

Harry got up suddenly and moved further away from her, wrapping the gray sheets around him more tightly. He should have seen this coming all along. Rebecca couldn't have just kept such a thing to herself. "When?"

"Two days ago. I never--"

"What did he say?"

"That he was going to look for you. That he would... That he would do whatever it took to stop you." Her voice shook with fear. "I know I shouldn't have said anything; that's why I came to warn you. We need to get out of here. It's only a matter of time before he finds you here."

Harry was silent for a few long moments. "Fine. We'll leave. I'll just wake up Hermione..."

"She's here?"

"Yes."

Rebecca's eyes darted out towards the door behind her. "Oh, well, everyone thought you'd killed her."

"Of course not," he spat. But suddenly he stopped in his tracks. "How did you find me again?"

"I dunno... I just... followed your footprints."

A suspicion was creeping deep into Harry's mind. Glaring at Rebecca, he threw on some clothes quickly and ran into the next room, where Hermione was breathing calmly, wrapped in a furry blanket herself. He nudged her sleeping form with his worn down shoe, but she didn't move. There couldn't be a worse time for her to be sleeping in. They needed to get out of there, and fast.

"Hermione," he said forcefully.

"What?" Her voice was muffled through the pillow her face was nestled in.

"Dumbledore is here. We need to make a run for it."

"Dumbledore?" Suddenly her eyes were alert and intelligent. "He knows, does he?" Harry nodded. "You're right. But where do we go?"

"I dunno. We'll find someplace. Anywhere but here."

Hermione nodded, and quickly got to her feet, her black nightdress making swishy noises every time she moved. She grabbed his arm as they entered the next room, but she stopped walking and her face took on a primitive grimace when she found herself facing Rebecca's frightened form.

"Why is she here?"

"She's trying to trick us to walk right into Dumbledore's trap," Harry explained, glaring at her. "Where is he waiting for us, Rebecca?" She shook her head, tears beginning to spill freely down her cheeks. His hands latched themselves harshly to her forearms, and he shook her. "Tell us, or I'll kill you," he told her, his voice steely and unfeeling. But goddammit, he still loved her. Hoping that he looked scary and not soft, he slapped her so hard that she fell to her knees in front of him. "I'm not afraid of killing anymore." It was a lie, but an intimidating one at least.

Rebecca's tear-streaked face looked up at his desperately. "He's waiting just outside the door," she confessed finally, "and he has a stake and I don't know what else. He plans to kill you."

"What time is it?"

She shook her head.

"What. Time. Is. It?" he asked coldly.

"Maybe four or so," she whispered.

"P.m.?"

Rebecca nodded.

"Shit," Harry breathed. "Okay, so we need something to cover us up and then we'll just sort of... run..."

"We could just take our sheets, right?"

"Yeah. Let's do it." Almost with thinking, Harry punched a hole into the side of the Shack, barely feeling the bloody splinters and cracks that appeared along his knuckles, and, grabbing Rebecca, wrapped his sheet around him and shoved through the thin wood wall out onto the roof. Hermione's footsteps followed behind. Dumbledore's voice could be heard over the roar of blood that pounded in his head. For a brief moment he was afraid of leaping off the roof, but he swallowed the human impulse quickly and jumped without hesitation. He landed with a loud thump, and Rebecca immediately became limp in his arms. But she felt like she weighed nothing as he glided over the ground, the Shack soon becoming a distant memory. He could see through the sheet enough to make his way through the Forbidden Forest, coming to rest after hours of running under a large, shady tree, feeling protected enough to take the sheet off his head.

He tugged it off impatiently, relieved to get the sweaty, sticky fabric off of his skin, and Hermione pulled off her blanket in turn, her hair mussed and her black dress twisted around her body in the strangest way. Rebecca was still out cold, lying on the ground beside them. Harry watched her with anger. She'd betrayed him. All this time, he'd believed in her honestly and loyalty, and she'd betrayed him. He was going to make sure that never happened again. Grabbing her furiously, he pulled her close to him.

"Harry, what're you doing?" Hermione asked, her voice distant.

"What I should have done in the first place." Harry took a deep breath and bit into Rebecca's neck skillfully. Oh, he'd forgotten how good she tasted. The acrid, metallic taste of her blood filled his mouth, filled his whole being, and he drank every drop that came to his lips, his anger fueling his intense, immediate hunger. Beneath him, Rebecca was stirring, but he shoved her down. She would _not _stop him this time. Nothing could stop him this time. Harry smiled to himself. This what he'd been waiting for all this time. But this time, he wasn't going to make her one of his own. Oh no... She didn't deserve that. He was going to _kill_ her. It was what he should have done in the first place. The stupid bitch didn't know where her loyalties lied. And in the fleeting moments she had left she would regret what she'd done to him. There was no doubt in his mind about that.

She moaned quietly, her thin, weak hands pushing against his chest in resistance, and it only made Harry more angry. This was what she deserved, after all. Rebecca should just accept what was coming to her. After all that she'd done, anything else would be be wrong. Unfair to the rest of humanity. So he bit down harder. But it was then that he realized that she wasn't pushing him away at all. In fact, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck and forced his teeth further in, and the moans she had been making had turned into laughter. He pulled away in surprise, although he was still maddeningly hungry.

"Harry, thank God you're finishing the job," she whispered, her lips pale and cracked, but still smiling. "I've been waiting for you for so long to finish."

"What?" he mumbled, disbelievingly.

Rebecca laughed, coughing up a little blood. "Finish. I know I play hard to get sometimes, but all along I've really wanted this." Her eyes widened. "To be like you are. Powerful. Sexy." Her arms wrapped tighter around him. "So do it." She kissed him slowly, sensuously, and Harry shuddered with elation. Something about her was so hypnotizing, even in this state.

Now he was smiling too as he bit her again, this time in no hurry. There wasn't much left in her, and now she was helping him as much as she could. But it was time for him to stop. He pulled away, and somehow he knew that she was aware of what she needed to do next, just like she always knew exactly what to do at school. Her teeth sank into his open chest, and she bit him quickly, tantalizingly licking the blood as it poured out of him. After a few moments, he shoved her away, knowing that if she took too much, their balance of power would be thrown off. Rebecca licked her lips as she watched him button up his shirt all the way, and rested against the tree that was behind them.

Harry studied her change. She _did _seem better and stronger. Her beauty was undimished. As a matter of fact, her porceilain white skin was gorgeous in contrast with her deep red lips. What she had done was forgotten immediately. It was too late to be angry with her. She was a part of him now, and always would be. Her faults, her imperfections... All of it was his, and he loved every bit of it. Rebecca smiled at him slowly, knowing how she was affecting him. He sat down beside her.

Hermione glared dejectedly at them both. "Happy now?"

"Yes," Harry mumured, grinning to himself and licking his lips. "But don't worry, there's enough of me to go around."

* * *

Night had long since fallen on the Forbidden Forest. Not that Harry could tell by looking at it. But the three recently initiated vampires sensed it in their veins. They were surprisingly comfortable, considering they were in a dark forest in which anything could be lurking. And Harry, for one, had never been so satisfied in his whole life.

The girls had fallen asleep from exhaustion hours ago. It had been a trying day for both of them, to be sure. Harry, on the other hand, felt as awake as ever. He was sure he couldn't sleep if he tried. So he'd gone to scour the forest for prospects at food to bring back to that tree for when they woke up. If Rebecca was as whiny as Hermione when she was hungry, it could be seriously trying on his sanity. His footsteps sounded loud in the night, but so far, nothing had woken up to meet him. And in a way, he wished something would. He was bored out of his mind after wandering around for this long and not finding anything. _Anything _would be a welcome entertainment at this point.

A low groaning noise carried over the silence, and Harry perked up with excitement. There was something out here in the darkness after all. He moved towards the noise, hoping that his improved nighttime vision would help him spot whatever it was. But he couldn't see anything. The thing was keeping itself well-hidden. He took another couple of steps towards it hopefully, and was thrown back by a large, claw-like hand.

"Oof," Harry moaned as he landed hard on his butt.

"Harry Potter," a deep inhuman voice growled menacingly.

His eyes widened in shock. "Yes?"

"We summon you to come with us to our meetingplace."

"Who are you?" Harry asked a bit shakily. "And where is your home?"

A tall, dark figure stepped out into the sliver of moonlight, and Harry could just recognize the long, silver teeth and shining red eyes from his dream. "We believe you already know that, Brother."


	7. Home

**Author's Notes: Dum dum dum dum!!! ::trumpet sounds:: I am so back and ready for action! And _you _are ready to read this babay and then review it, aren't ya? ::nudge nudge, wink wink:: Sorry it's taking me so long; I got really stressed and then got a writer's block attack. But come on, you can't tell me that you have better things to do than read my stupid story!!! Can you?**

**Nope. Not mine. None of it. JK Rowling's. Got it? Good.**

Harry was lifted off the ground, not by the will of his own, and moved forward slowly back towards the place where Rebecca and Hermione were sleeping. Chills crept down his spine hauntingly. The vampire was close behind him, andin a perverse wayits presence was comforting. He had someone to watch over him. He belonged. All those feeling he'd been hoping for his whole life were suddenly pouring over him, all at once.

"We hear you've been busy," it said, its deep voice clear and resonating.

"Yes," Harry whispered. He was ashamed of his own submissiveness, but there was nothing to be done.

"_Two _new breathren... Very interesting choice. Most young ones choose to feed before they allow any others in. But then... You are not like the others."

He frowned. "How am I different?"

"You just are. And always have been."

Itwasn't enough of an answer;Harry needed more. He needed answers. Why him? Why had the vampires chosen him to initiate over all the other people at Hogwarts? They could have had Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the world. But he'd been the one pulled out of the crowd. Somehow he was different than everyone else. It couldn't just be that bloody scar on his forehead, could it? He looked up at the vampire frustratedly. Just because his mother had protected him when he was baby? There was nothing incredible about him other than his mother's dying wish. Now even that was fading away.

"Why?" he found himself asking.

The vampire continued its glide through the forest. "All will be explained in time."

"But... I don't understand, I--"

"As we said, you must wait." Its voice grew even colder, if possible. "You trust us, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then be patient, Brother. Be patient."

And Harry was patient, though reluctantly. The forest seemed to shift around him as they in essence glided over the thin, rough path he'd made. He wondered where they were going to go, of course, but he tried to press the thoughts of that from his mind. In all honesty, he was a little afraid of the vampire, even though he knew he shouldn't be. They were family now. It was just... Those instincts from before, those human survival instincts, were still resisting this change. He shook them away.

"Erm... Rebecca and Hermione... They're right ahead," Harry told it in an attempt to be helpful.

The vampire seemed amused. "We know."

The soft sounds of sleep traveled to their ears, and his feet slowly touched the ground. He walked towards them, prepared to wake them, but something stopped him. His brother, without a word, glided past him, and the two girls rose off the ground, still sleeping. Harry glanced up at it in surprise.

"It's best not to shock them," the vampire explained.

Harry nodded compliantly, somewhat beside himself. That restraint that had made him afraid, had made him pull away from it was fading fast. "Where are we going?" he murmured as his feet lifted off the ground.

"Home."

* * *

Harry wasn't sure if he was dreaming or awake, unregistering or alert. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. All he felt was the rush of the cool wind on his face, and all he saw was the creature gliding through the air beside him. It was all he needed to know. He didn't stop to think of what was happening to him. Even if he had, he wouldn't have understood. This was all beyond his comprehension, in some strange, alien sense. Everything he was experiencing was unfamiliar to his semiconscious mind, and yet, he was sure he'd seen it all in a dream. If he'd had enough energy to piece the empty fragments in his mind together, perhaps a new understanding would come to him. But as it was, he glided along, enjoying the distant numbness that filled his body.

They veered to the left, he registered that much. The ground below them was a blur of dark greens and shadows and blackness. He could see Hermione and Rebecca beside them, breathing quietly, still asleep. His consciousness slowly came to him. How could they be sleeping? Couldn't they hear the rush of the wind as it hit their faces? The sound of a pack of wolves in the distance? Despite himself, Harry felt a slight urge of emotion, the one that he used to know as fear. Those wolves sounded dangerous. He'd thought he'd overcome his fears of them with Lupin... Suddenly he was ashamed of himself for feeling it, for feeling anything remotely like what he used to feel. He turned his face away so the vampire couldn't see him.

"Don't try to hide," it said firmly after a few moments. "We know what you are feeling. We can sense it."

"I'm sorry," Harry told it, "I didn't mean to. I just--"

The thing nodded, cutting him off. "We know. It takes time to rid yourself of the stench of humanity. We cannot remember our own beginnings. In time, you too will forget. You will be complete. In time."

He bowed his head, still embarrassed. Harry had always been impatient. It was part of his nature. And he felt more and more unsettled as he flew alongside the vampire and the girls, waiting. Waiting. He just wanted the waiting to end; he wanted to know why he'd been summoned other than the obvious reasons. This creature had said that he was different from other wizards... Harry wanted to know how. There were too many unanswered questions rushing through his head for the silence to be acceptable. His stomach turned; he ground his teeth together in anger. Where was he going?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of flying, they were brought to the ground slowly, landing in a cove in the forest. The sky was slowly beginning to lighten, and Harry glanced at it uncomfortably as he was brought down into the dark, damp shadows. There was safety down here. He should know that. His breathren wouldn't bring him here unless there was guaranteed safety. Otherwise the vampires could exist here at all. So he breathed out slowly, relaxing as his feet touched the ground. He hadn't realized how tense he'd been while up in the air.

But he was lowering still, sinking through the crumbling, wet dirt. He shot an alarmed glance at the vampire, but it remained perfectly calm as they fell through the first layer of ground, and Harry tried to mirror this calm. At first all he could see below was pinpoints of light in a sea of darkness. But, as his eyes adjusted, he began to see... to see... creatures, vampires, his breathren, all around him, as if greeting them. They were in a cave, lit slightly with dripping red candles that rested on cracks in the cave wall or on the floor. He'd half-expected to see caskets down here, but there was nothing of the kind. There were openings in the walls that seemed to lead to other rooms; there was no way to tell if they actually did yet. The dark hooded creatures slowly approached the four, forcing Harry to grab a hold of Rebecca and bunch closer to the vampire in fear, even though he knew he shouldn't be afraid.

"Welcome, Harry Potter," one of them said, but none of them opened their mouths to speak so he couldn't be sure which. "Your coming here will serve the great purpose of our time."

"And what purpose is that?" Harry asked, slightly impertinent. His impatience and fear was wearing on his common sense.

"Come. We will show you."

In one sweeping motion, all at once, including the vampire who had brought Harry to this place, turned to face one of the cave walls and purposefully moved in that direction. Harry, after dartingly glancing at Rebecca and Hermione, followed, and was surprised to see that the girls continued to hover beside him wherever he went. The thought filled some chauvinistic part of him with a strange kind of glee, of power. He smiled at them as he followed along. He would finally get some answers to why they had come after him and the first place. He could finally get some closure to the end of his human life and start on with his next. And he was ready.

But nothing could have prepared him for the sight he would next see.

The vampires cleared away, gathering on either side of a enormous bed. It had a huge, dusty bedspread in combined hues of gold, red, purple, and black. Harry's eyes followed the thin form of a body up to the face at the head of the bed, and breathed in sharply. It was a vampire, clearly a vampire with it's dim red eyes and elongated teeth, but unlike the others, this vampire wore no hood. Dread made its way through him. Its face, barely ressembling a human's, was withered and bone white and gray in parts, no color reflected in any part of it's face besides its eyes. Those bloodred eyes met Harry's slowly, and without it having to speak a word, Harry knew that he was supposed to approach it. The other vampires bowed, and he realized he was probably required to do the same, so he shakingly reclined his head before moving towards the bed. The vampire, when it spoke, had a deep, rasping voice, but a female voice nonetheless.

"Harry Potter, you have come at last. My messenger has brought you, as he promised."

"Yes," he whispered, shivering slightly as he stopped beside the bed. Something about this particular vampire spread a chilling fear through him.

"I am glad. I assume you now know why you are here."

Harry began to shake his head, but after looking at her for a moment longer, it began to dawn on him what was happening to her. "You're dying."

Her creased face stretched into a smile, or however much it could look like a smile with those long teeth reaching beyond her lips. To him it looked more like a grimace. "You're bright." She seemed pleased. "I have long been waiting for this day."

"Why?"

The smile fell from her face. "Because, _boy, _today is the day I finally meet my heir."

"Me?"

"Yes," she hissed, annoyed at his ignorance.

"In all respect, why me?" Harry was surprised, but not so surprised that his questions could go unanswered. This rush of information that he was assumed to know was puzzling, to say the least. And he needed to know. He needed to know as much as she could bear to tell him.

"The prophecy," she grumbled. "Didn't they tell you anything?"

He shook his head slowly, but was somehow relieved to see real human emotion in a vampire. It made him feel less disgusted with himself for still having so many.

"Many years ago, 17 years, I believe, it was foretold by a woman in a pub that _you, _Harry Potter, would destroy Lord Voldemort, or he you. This is known in some circles in the wizarding world. The part of the prophecy that your headmaster consistently seems to forget is the the most important to us." She smiled that dark grimace again. "It is the only important part of the prophecy at all."

"What did Trelawney say?" Harry's heart somehow managed to both jump and sink in his chest. Dumbledore had kept even more from him than he'd ever imagined.

"You are to replace me as head of the Vampira. You are to become legend, Harry Potter, both in this world and in the wizarding one. You are the only one who can take my place. The prophecy cannot lie. Evil defeats evil. No matter what your silly wizarding world has told you, good will never conquer." Her eyes narrowed. "You must make a choice. I suggest you choose wisely."


	8. Education

**Author's Notes: Boo! I scared you! Erm… Yes.**

Harry's heart fluttered in his chest and he stepped away from the one vampire, the leader of the Vampira. This was a strange new feeling, this one that overpowered him suddenly. He was afraid, he was sickened, but he was also… enlightened? Powerful? No, no feeling he'd ever before as a human would compare. There was no word in the English language for all this sudden weight and lightness and clarity that fell upon his mind. He was something new with this knowledge, a whole new being, and yet… Still very much the same. He'd grown up always with those around him telling him he was meant for great things, always carrying the burden of leadership. This news, as startling as it was, also, in a small way, made sense in his mind. It was as if he'd always known, somewhere inside him, his fate.

His eyes rose slowly to meet her great, red pair. She was offering him a choice, she said, but there was no choice involved in the matter. Not in his mind. If he denied her, he would surely be killed, either by Dumbledore or by his own brothers and sisters. But if he accepted… He would be revered, protected. Either way, Voldemort would be sure to come for him. But that had always been a certainty in Harry's life. A choice? He laughed inwardly. Surely she couldn't believe him to be that stupid.

"Yes," he murmured, so quietly that it likely couldn't have been heard by human ears, but with all his newfound strength behind it. "I choose this path."

A slight murmur carried over his breathren, but with their low, throaty voices it sounded like thunder. The Vampira smiled again, chillingly. Without speaking, she called the others to come nearer to her; she had an instruction for them.

"Teach young Harry Potter our ways, my children. There isn't much time."

And they solemnly turned to face him with their slightly less scarlet eyes. Harry felt a cold, bony hand clench each arm and was lifted off the ground as they carried him away from her as smoothly as was imaginable. The cave around them changed as they moved through it. First the chiseled walls, which had been covered with ancient writing, narrowed and became a pitch black tunnel. Even Harry, with his still undeveloped vampire eyes, couldn't quite tell where they were headed. The blackness was intoxicating. It filled him with a sense of belonging.

He knew Hermione and Rebecca were still back there with the Her, but he found himself caring less and less. He doubted she would do any harm to her own kind, and besides, there were more important things to worry about, even if they were in danger. Such as that smell… He sniffed the air slowly, cautiously, and the overwhelming scent of blood filled his nostrils. It only grew stronger as they seemingly inched forward into the blackness. Finally, when it seemed Harry's curiosity and his hunger could take it no longer, a faint light appeared ahead.

"We are approaching the feeding room," one of the vampires said, though it was impossible to tell which.

"The feeding room?" Harry questioned, hoping for more explanation.

Patiently, the vampire beside him nodded. "You will understand."

He rolled his eyes impatiently. After several more long moments, they finally entered the dimly lit area, where the tunnel opened up into a high-ceilinged dome. That familiar, pungent smell was so strong now that Harry was faint with hunger. He glanced around the room desperately, looking for the source of it, and quickly found it. There were five children, only a few years younger than Harry himself, lying on the dirty ground, chained to the wall with their ankles and wrists, bleeding only slightly now from their many wounds. His hunger surged, but at the same time, he felt a weak, human part of him clench up his stomach in horror and pain. How could anyone do such a thing to these poor children? Only one was still awake. His huge, sunken in brown eyes took in Harry and his near-human appearance, and they filled with desperate hope.

"Please, sir," the child said, his trembling voice still soprano. "Don't let them… I'm… They'll kill me, you see? They… aren't good." Harry looked away, trying to blink away the sudden tears that had formed in his eyes. "Sir! They killed him! My brother! He was only seven… I watched it all… He was so scared… _I _was so scared…" A little sob escaped him. "Please, make them stop." A silence followed as the child succumbed to silent tears.

Harry still didn't dare look back at that wall. "Is this really necessary?" he asked the floor.

"It is for our survival. On nights such as tonight, when there are wizards on the lookout for vampires, we cannot risk leaving our cave. We turn to other means… The children's blood is more sustaining."

"How often do you feed them? How often do you feed _on _them?"

"The answer to both is as often as necessary." There was a short, calculating pause. "I see that this room upsets you. You will grow accustomed to it. We all do. The first feed is always the most difficult."

Harry's now bloodshot eyes rose to meet the vampire's. "You mean I'm expected to…?"

"You must keep up your strength if you are to lead us. And tonight this is your only way of feeding." Its voice was completely impassive, as were its red eyes. As if the vampire had done this thousands of times before.

"Okay… okay," he mumbled, mainly to himself. He knew that he had to do this, and his hunger was a powerful force indeed. But those children… The thought of hurting them sickened him, even now, even after all he'd done and seen. His victims had made a choice in their own strange way. But these victims… What had they ever done wrong? Harry swallowed loudly. He just shouldn't think about it. He just had to let his mind go blank.

His first footstep towards them was loud and echoing in comparison to the gliding of the others. He was already second-guessing himself. Which one should he feed on? What was worse, watching someone drink another's blood or being bitten yourself? Harry's mind kept going back to that poor child… He'd watched his brother be killed… Maybe if Harry just finished him now, things would be better for him. It would certainly be a more merciful death than to be drained again and again by the others. And with his second footstep, he'd decided. He knew what was necessary.

The pale, thin frame of the sobbing child shook violently, but Harry tried not to think of it as he approached him. He just had to think of his hunger, satisfying this one demonic urge. He was sure that once his teeth had sunk into the kid's neck, he would forget about his morality and instinctively carry out the job. If only the distance between them didn't seem so great… Harry sped up his footsteps to quicken the process.

Hearing Harry's footsteps, the child looked up at him wearily, first with hope, but his huge eyes soon widened in fear. Harry closed his own eyes as he grasped the child's shoulders and chomped into his neck, the weak but racing heartbeat pounding in his ears now. Blood entered his mouth, rolled over his tongue, slid down his throat… But Harry was not enjoying this feeding, much to his own self-hate. All he was doing was getting rid of that sickening hunger. On and on, the blood seemed to flow. The child's heart wouldn't quit, wouldn't stop. Frustrated, he bit down just a little bit harder. _Give up, _he thought towards the perseverant heart. _Just stop. Make things easier for both of us. _Finally, after what felt like hours, the loud beating slowed and became faint. Harry pulled away.

The vampires' cold hands were on his arms again.

"Good," one of them said.

* * *

Over the next few days, Harry gave very little thought to the children or to Dumbledore, who he assumed was still on the lookout for him. Instead, he absorbed everything he could about the vampire world: the methods of feeding, ways to avoid detection, what kind of commands to give, and most of all, how to best use his new powers. Most of this he learned from the lead Vampira herself. She demonstrated to him each power: gliding, invisibility, strength, control and charm, commanding. And Harry truly felt that he was becoming what he was meant to be. Even at Hogwarts he had never felt so in control of his abilities, so in sync with everything going on around him. He'd never felt so… at home.

Rebecca and Hermione were learning as well, of course, especially Hermione. Just like at her old days at Hogwarts she pored over every book she could find, collecting bits of information and insights to every part of vampire life. She hung around Her, asking questions and getting equally detailed answers. Sometimes, however, Harry got the sense that the reason she hung around the"queen" was not so much for knowledge's sake as it was for his. Rebecca, in contrast, was learning about herself more on instinct than anything else. Her natural charm and charisma was only heightened by her vampire powers, which she learned from watching the others. However, upon discovering the ability of the others to seduce, she spent less and less time trying to win over Harry. Not that Harry minded. He certainly had enough to deal with while Hermione used all her feminine wiles to keep his interest.

He glided into his coffin with an exhausted sigh. The sun would be up in a half hour or so, maybe a little less by now. While his powers were certainly growing, he was frustrated at how far behind he was in comparison to the Vampira. It was hard for him to see still why he was so special, he who seemed to have no more strength than anyone else. Harry hadn't exactly been expecting this life to require so much work after hearing of the full prophecy. This would be a well-needed rest.

"Harry?" he heard a voice say.

His sharp green eyes darted over to where the voice had come from in the darkness. Hermione stood there, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, seemingly infused with power. Her eyes burned scarlet. Slowly she stepped toward him, her draping black garb barely covering her smooth, pale legs. Harry had never been so attracted to her in all the years of their friendship. He blinked, surprised.

"Harry, we can learn from each other," she whispered. Her voice was lower than he remembered. "Can't you teach me?"

He nodded cautiously, still a bit in shock at her appearance. She smoothly stepped into his coffin, moving atop him so that she was straddling his lower hips. Her arms forced his shoulders down with a strength he hadn't known she had, and slowly, almost more slowly than he could bear, he touched her lips to his, then gently carried the kissing down to his neck and shoulder, where she bit him softly. He moaned. His own arms wrapped tightly around her waist and pushed her a little harder onto his hips. Hermione pulled her kisses away, smiling her white grin, flashing her intense eyes. Her pale arm reached out and shut the coffin on the both of them, and it wasn't long before Harry couldn't remember his days with Rebecca.

* * *

What a dream Harry was having. He was surrounded by his breathren, and next to him was the softest, palest body he'd ever encountered. She was slumbering as well. He realized with a slight jolt that it was, in fact, Hermione. The surprise didn't last long as he closed his eyes again and let the fuzzy haze cover his mind. There was a knocking noise, as if someone was trying to get into his room at Hogwarts. That seemed like such a long time ago. Had Ron locked himself out? "Ron, come in already, I'm trying to sleep," he mumbled.

Then… Footsteps… Harry opened his eyes. This didn't seem so much like a dream anymore… This sound was jarring and real. He jerked up a bit, startling the naked Hermione, who now glared her slitted eyes at him.

"What's wrong with you?" she murmured. "It's still daylight. Go back to sleep."

But he couldn't. There was something startlingly wrong about this situation.

His coffin was suddenly thrown open, casting a ray of light on Harry's face that shot pain through his entire body. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus through the pain at the man who had uncovered him. After three long, horrid moments he was able to make out a tall, pointed hat and the longest white beard he'd ever seen.

"Dumbledore."


End file.
